


ink stains and flower petals

by isloremipsumafterall



Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-30
Updated: 2015-03-30
Packaged: 2018-03-20 10:08:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3646290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/isloremipsumafterall/pseuds/isloremipsumafterall
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Flea had originally just been looking to set up her flower shop, that the tattooist next door caught her eye was an added bonus in her opinion.</p>
            </blockquote>





	ink stains and flower petals

It was certainly nicer than places the she had lived before and Flea knew it despite all her complaints when Porthos had first dragged her to see it.

Like most shops on this street it had an open ground floor for setting up whatever supplies your store might carry and the upstairs could be used as an apartment, right now the shipment she had ordered hadn’t arrived yet; still too early in the morning but there was a rose waiting for her on a newly set up counter desk.

That meant Porthos must have shown up at some time over the night to do that, he’d been overly involved in helping her out which wasn’t in her mind a bad thing. It was Porthos that had pushed her to try this venture too.

The shelves and cases were all set up, ready for her to place the flowers on when they arrived, everything upstairs had yet to finish being unpacked but she didn’t want to go up and possibly miss her shipment somehow.

A knock on the door had her head shooting up, dropping the rose she had been fiddling with back on the counter.

At the door was a redheaded woman, wearing jeans and a long sleeved white blouse and carrying a tray with what looked like coffee cups from the shop down the street.

She waved the woman in, stepping around the counter at the same time and the bell above the door jingled as it opened.

“Well this isn’t bad, I suppose it’s the same set up as my shop; much more open though.” Blue eyes, a darker shade than her own, crinkled as the woman smiled.

She held up the tray she was carrying, “Porthos said you took your coffee with one cream and one sugar but I brought some extra just in case.”

Flea blinked, resting against the counter and taking in the red headed woman curiously, whomever she was she obviously knew Porthos and about her.

“I feel like I’m at a disadvantage.” Flea hated to be at one, her tone bordering on defensive. At another time she might have opened up with flirting but there was too much about this woman coming in she wasn’t sure about.

“Ah, yes,” The red head at least had the dignity to look embarrassed by that, “I forgot you might not know me, I’m Constance. I work with Porthos next door.”

Constance offered Flea her hand with a wide smile and Flea took it, thinking.

Porthos had told her about Constance, whom actually owned the tattoo shop that he worked for part time; the whole reason he knew about this shop space opening up was because he’d been there when it had.

Constance however, looked nothing like someone who would own a tattoo shop with her long curly red hair that fell in her face to frame it, looking more like someone who would work at a clothing store at the mall.

She did however see a peek of a tattoo from under the sleeve that fell down her arm a bit during the handshake.

“You don’t look like a tattooist, no offense.” Flea told her regardless, now that she had seen a hint however her eyes kept looking over Constance for clues of other tattoos.

“You don’t look like a florist,” Constance snorted, “No offense.”

That was fair enough, with her ever present tattered hair and the t-shirt she had just tugged on that morning without looking at it (a quick glance down showed her it was thankfully just a faded gray one, though also it was roughly stitched together in places.) and tight jeans she probably more fit the view of tattooist than Constance did.

Flea shrugged, “I’m full of surprises.”

It was easy to offer a smirk then, give Constance a once over that left little to the imagination, and the red head rolled her eyes, crossing her arms.

“Don’t be as bad as Aramis.” Flea heard her say under her breath.

Grabbing the coffee that had been brought from her from the tray she blew on it and then took a sip.

“I take offense that.” Flea had met Aramis. “No one is a bad as him.”

Constance laughed at that and Flea’s eyes widened in surprise because she hadn’t been expecting how Constance would look at that, with a grin that lit up the empty shop and her hair dancing teasingly over her neck in the movement.

She had a sudden wish her shop was filled with flowers just so she could see what Constance looked like surrounded by them.

She always did like pretty things.

Growing up flowers had been the few things she had taken to, making sure the jar in her room in the foster home was always filled with the wild daisies that grew in the yard.

“I have to admit, I was curious to meet you.” Constance took her own cup from the tray, “Porthos talks about you a lot and he says you’re the reason he’s so good at drawing flowers.”

She leaned in, dropping her voice to a whisper, “Don’t tell him I said it but I’m a bit envious, never my specialty.”

Flea arched an eyebrow in a quiet question.

Constance shrugged, “I like designing things, everything else I’m fine with to picture in my head, flowers not so much.”

Flea knew there was more of a story there but she opted to let it go, taking another sit from her cup.

“Thank you for the coffee.”

Constance’s smile was sadly hidden by the rim of her cup but was there all the same.

“Welcome to the neighbourhood.”

~~

She helped Flea unpack when the first shipment of flowers arrived, waving off Flea’s protests by saying she’d be bored until her work opened up for the day anyway.

“It’s a lot brighter in here now.” Constance looked around the room, Flea hummed in answer, not really paying attention and too busy arranging the flowers to catch people’s eyes.

She tried not to take too much notice that she was arranging the flowers around Constance despite that the woman wouldn’t be there soon enough. As it was she subtly pushed the gladiolus’ to the right of her to help bring out even more of the red of her hair.

“I think I should get going though.”

“Oh.” Flea frowned, she took quick steps towards the desk, grabbing the red rose off it and walked back to Constance, presenting it to her with a warm smile.

“As a thank you. And to help inspire you to draw flowers better.”

Constance flushed, taking the rose and mumbling a thank you.

“Come by again. I can always offer you more inspiration.” Flea called out, turning to walk away, hips swaying and when she glanced behind her she could see Constance watching right before the other woman turned and left.

~~

A week later her flower shop had been doing quite while despite it just opening. A lot of people who came with friends or lovers to get their tattoos done ended up buying flowers and some kind of object to ease the pain.

Or that’s what she assumed.

She was idly flipping through a flower magazine and considering if she should order anything new next week when the door jingled again.

“Welcome to Blooming Petals,” Porthos had guffawed loudly when she had given it that name, “how can I- oh, Constance. What brings you here?”

Flea rested her chin on her hand, elbow on the counter.

Constance raised a now familiar tray that she brought over and set down in front of Flea.

“I had some time, Porthos is watching the shop and it’s a quiet day. Thought we could both use a pick me up.”

Flea hummed her agreement, eyeing Constance.

“Still trying to find them?”

A few days ago Constance had told her she had several tattoos but aside from the swirls on her wrists, her first attempt of tattoos that Constance had opted to try on herself, Flea hadn’t been able to see any.

That Constance kept wearing those long blouses, with the buttons just left open enough to show a hint of skin and dip downwards in a tempting trail but not enough to see anything else didn’t help in anyway but to drive Flea mad.

“One day I will.” Flea batted her eyelashes teasingly, “Could help if you’d slip out of those clothes for me.”

Constance rolled her eyes as she usually did in the wake of Flea’s flirting.

“Just you wait Connie.” She dropped the shorted name without thinking but the annoyed look she got was amusing, Constance’s nostrils flaring and her brow furrowing.

“Do not call me that.”

Constance groaned when she saw Flea’s delighted grin, nothing good could come of that.

~~

Despite that she had been there for a month she had been so busy she hadn’t had time to even step over to the shop next to her to see Constance at work, so when she closed up that day and saw the lights of Constance’s shop still on she slipped in, curious.

Constance hair was up, braided and twisted into a bun with some of her hair trickling down the back of her neck, bent over in concentration as she worked on someone’s arm with ease.

The constant buzz in the air was strangely soothing, reminding Flea when she had received her first tattoo with Porthos back when they were still teenagers, a tiny sparrow on her ankle.

Constance must have sensed someone was behind her and looked over, grinning once she saw Flea and mouthing ‘five minutes’ to her.

The red head would have made a good doctor, Flea mused, Constance was gentle with her hands and the needle, letting the person in the chair know whenever she was going to be moving them for a different angle.

She was done soon enough, cashing the person out while telling them how to take care of it and then turned to Flea.

“You want your own turn in the chair? On the house.” Constance offered, waving her hand towards it.

Flea raised an eyebrow, “Hoping to practice flowers on me?”

Constance eyes lit up at that and though Flea was mostly teasing it was actually tempting just to see what Constance could do..

“I had been hoping to see if you wanted dinner, I’ve been open for month, I want a celebration.” Flea stood up, leaning in close to Constance, “Though I suppose tattoo’s like a celebration. Let’s see what you’ve got, Connie.”

“You don’t have anything in mind?”

Flea shucked off her shirt, leaving her only in her bra and marching to the chair.

“Surprise me.”

~~

“It’s not bad at all.” Flea squinted at the newly minted tattoo in the mirror, almost trying to twist her neck to get a better angle of the patch of roses on her shoulder. “Dare I ask why roses?”

Constance’s cheeks were a bit pink, “It was the only reference I had.”

She hit Flea on the opposite shoulder of the tattoo as the other woman laughed uproariously.

“So, feel celebrated yet?” Constance hoisted herself up on the counter. “Congratulations on that by the way.”

Flea grinned, “Could use some alcohol. A bit more worshipping that I made it. A decent meal.”

Constance snorted, “Alcohol and a meal I can help with, the worshipping you’re all on your own though I don’t think your ego needs it.”

In a fit of impish amusement Flea stepped into Constance’s space, throwing her arms around her and ignoring the ache in her shoulder when she did that, and pressed her cheek against Constance’s.

“Now Constance that’s not the worship I was talking about though I will take you up on that meal.”

Constance laughed, pushing her away, “All right, all right, upstairs with you.”

“So if I’m good do I get worship?”

“If you’re good I’ll help you put cream on that new tattoo.” Constance retorted easily, slipping off the counter and walking over to lock the door and close up her shop.

“How romantic.” Flea sighed overdramatically, a quick look of bemusement from Constance shot her way.

~~

“You need something to brighten up this place.” Flea stood in the centre of Constance’s apartment, still shirtless and taking everything in.

“Like flowers?” The pot banging on the stove right after had Flea curiously looking into the kitchenette where Constance was making them pasta.

“Yes, just like that.” She’d already plotted out different areas where she would put them in her head, over on the windowsill for instance she’d put a Stargazer lily as it could enjoy the summer sun best there.

“So,” Flea watched her stir the pasta, “Do I get to hear why you chose being a tattooist.”

Constance shrugged, “Like I said, I like designing; good with my hands too. I actually started working at a shop to help pay for college and never stopped, a few years later I found myself owning my own shop, simple as that.”

“And…” Flea rolled her hand in the air, prompting Constance on.

Constance sighed, “And it made the man my parents wanted me to marry mad.”

“Take it you enjoyed pissing him off?”

“Immensely.” She sounded smug about that.

“What happened to him?” Flea would be lying if she said she wasn’t fishing for relationship details.

Constance looked back behind her, shaking her head and smiling, obviously aware what Flea was doing.

“We thankfully broke it off. I spent some time dating Anne who was in the same class as me, had a fling with d’Artagnan later. What about you, you and Porthos ever…”

“Once. Well, more than once.” Flea grinned unrepentant when Constance rolled her eyes, “Charon and I had a thing for while until he decided to get himself arrested in a foolish stunt. I dated Porthos’ ex-girlfriend Alice for a little bit, though that was mostly just to his face.”

“He laughed?”

“A lot. Alice was good sport about it too.”

“And now here you are.”

“Yes. In your living room.” Flea rested her crossed arms on the small kitchen counter. “Shirtless.”

“Can we at least eat first?” Constance shot her a pointed look.

Flea’s stomach growled at that moment at the mention of food and she buried her face in her hands to hind the heat that rose to her cheeks.

“That might be best.”

~~

It was far too hot in Constance’s bedroom in the summer heat at night but Flea didn’t care, even with one arm strewn across her.

“Well I definitely know where your tattoos are now.”

Constance dragged her close to kiss her again, lazily now and unlike the heated kisses from only moments before, both of them exhausted.

“I think I need some new ones. Maybe flowers.” Constance’s soft curls brushed against her cheek as she rested her head in the crook of Flea’s neck. “Any ideas?”

“A few.” Flea trailed a hand down Constance’s hips, “Maybe some cleome hassleraina right here.”

“And what does that mean?”

“Oh you know,” Flea lips quirked upwards though Constance couldn’t see it. “Elope with me.”

“Flea!”

“I was kidding!” Flea laughed. “Maybe gloxinia instead.”

“What does that mean, get married in Vegas?” Constance drawled sardonically.

“Love at first sight.”

“Hm,” Constance tugged at a lock of Flea’s blonde hair, “That one’s not bad, tell me more.”

By the time they had fallen asleep Flea felt like she had described every flower in her shop; curled up with Constance and feeling more than grateful she’d chosen to set up shop there.


End file.
